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Quote by Leonora Carrington

“Sleeping and waking are not quite as distinctive as they used to be, I often mix them up.”

Book:The Hearing Trumpet

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The Hearing Trumpet

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Leonora Carrington

Leonora Carrington, born on April 6, 1917, and died on May 25, 2011, was a renowned Mexican artist. Known for her unique surrealistic style and profound depiction of female characters, her work has had a significant impact on the art world. more

“I’m not a good father.” I breathed out a sigh, clutching her. “Ivarsen has no discipline. He’s going to be undriven. Fane is neurotic. Everything has to be perfect. Gunnar is going to blow us up with his machines. Dag has refused to eat a vegetable since birth, and Octavia’s going to wind up in a fucking asylum when she finds out real life pirates are just terrorists with grenade launchers.” I gulped, hating that after thousands of years there was still no proven method of raising kids. “I don’t know what to do. How the hell would I know what a good parent does and doesn’t do?”

Damon Torrance Winter Ashby

Book:Fire Night

Source: Fire Night

“Just wanted to hold you.” His voice loomed somewhere over my head as my eyes started to close. “And say I’m really fucking sor—” “What?” I asked, giving out and falling into him. “I can’t understand you.” “Don’t let me go,” he whispered in my ear. “Don’t let go.” “I’m gonna…” My mouth was so dry. “I’m gonna send you to jail.” His lips rested against my cheek, and I thought I felt his body shake with a silent sob. But as I fell into sleep and oblivion, his words were sharp and clear in my ear. “Then you better hope I never get out.”

Winter Damon Torrance

Book:Kill Switch

Source: Kill Switch

“He’s temperamental, but he’ll compromise,” Kai explained to Bryce. “We’ve been through this before.” “Compromise?” Bryce whined. “He threw an ax at my head!” “If I’d thrown it at your head, I would’ve hit your head,” I growled low. There was silence, and then I heard Bryce’s voice. “I’m outta here, man.”

Damon Torrance Kai Mori

Book:Conclave

Source: Conclave

“What does he look like?” Winter whispered up at me, her voice raspy. I smoothed my hand over both their heads. “Like next year he’ll be running around in the fountains with us,” I told her. “He’s perfect, baby. Black hair, a little pissed off…” She snorted, and I thought about what he’d look like in a year when he was walking and running and laughing and playing. I wanted the noise. I wanted it all over the house. I wanted it filling our lives from here on out.”

Damon Torrance Winter Ashby Iverson

Book:Conclave

Source: Conclave

Quote by Leonora Carrington

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